


Fear and Dildo Monsters

by whilloywriter



Category: NeoScum (Podcast)
Genre: Cuddling, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:47:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28434132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whilloywriter/pseuds/whilloywriter
Summary: My first fic on a03! Zenith and Pox have a semi-serious conversation
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	Fear and Dildo Monsters

Zenith jacked out, the electronic and garbled “goodbye” crackling in his ears as the world came rapidly into focus around him, technicolor squares fizzing and popping as the neon blue-streaked blackness of his deck faded. He released a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, tension fading from his chest as he ran a hand through his dual-toned hair. 

Pox was staring at him, eyes wide, candy-colored makeup half wiped away. Her head was resting on her hands, fingers drumming a rhythm into her chin and jaw. She nodded, and he nodded. 

“Man,” He breathed, slumping further into the chair. “Your dad...” 

Pox nodded, throwing herself back on the shitty motel bad. “I know!” She said loudly, pulling all her limbs in together as she so often did when she was nervous. “Fuck, I know, he sucks, oh my god,” She whined, rolling around in a mess of silver hair and limbs. “He’s the worst, and I can’t wait to get back home and,” She suddenly sat up, crushing her hands together as she snarled. “Oooh, I’m going to kill him.” 

Zenith laughed, his hands falling to rest in his lap. “No kidding. I just wish he’d stop throwing these two bit deckers at me, man,” He groaned as he stood, sitting on the bed. “I haven’t gotten more than two hours of sleep in...” He started to count, falling back into the mattress. “Well, fuck me.” 

Pox stood, the mattress depressing and then releasing as she leapt onto the second bed in the decrepit motel room. “I know,” She said, the springs creaking as she jumped up and down. “I know!” 

His attention wandered to his AR feed. “If I have to wake up in the middle of the night one more time because some big... I don’t know, dildo monster is chasing after me in the Matrix, I’m probably going to vomit, Pox.”

The springs creaked one last time as Pox leapt back over, throwing herself with a slap into the deflating pillows. “Did you really see a big dildo monster?” 

Zenith shrugged, throwing his hands up in frustration. “I mean, what do you call this,” He blinked, casting a projection of some sort of roaring, vaguely silicon-y purple monster with rounded tubes for hands and feet and veins all across it’s skin. “If not a dildo monster.” 

Pox burst into laughter. “Oh my god! It really looks like a bunch of dildos all knotted together,” She said, scooting closer. He craned his head back to look at her, the projection overlapping with her face. “Was it coming for your arse, Zenith?”

He gasped a sort of half-shocked, disgusted laugh. “What-” The image blinked out of existence, and Pox raised her hands threateningly, a growl rumbling through her chest. 

“I’m the dildo monster,” She said, her voice a low and rumbly mess, “And I’m coming for your Matrix arse!” She reached out, grabbing him, “Let me in, Zenith, let me in your booty.” 

He wheezed, trying to push her away weakly. She was much stronger, and faster, her hands nimbly and deftly attempting to tickle at his armpits through the thick leather and synthetic cotton of his jacket. Of course, as her hands brushed over where the metal met skin, she pulled away. 

“Oops,” She breathed, chuckling, and he wiped tears away from his eyes. “Sorry, I- I forgot.”

Zenith sat up, shrugging. “It’s fine. Dak tries to tickle me... at least five times a day, and everytime it’s...” he trailed off, shrugging again. 

Pox nodded eagerly. “I know. You’d think he learned his lesson when-”

“Tech peed in his lap, yeah.” Zenith finished, nodding along with her. And then, in the silence, they were only smiling and nodding at each other. 

“I’m tired.” She exhaled, twisting to grab the rose-patterned pillow. He turned his attention back to his AR feed.

“Yeah me too. Why are they taking so long?” He muttered. “I-” He blinked in surprise as Pox placed the pillow up against his legs. She paused, looking up at him.

“Oh, is this ok?” She said, though the question didn’t stop her from grabbing yet another pillow, thoroughly disturbing the pile at the head of the bed. 

“Uh, yeah, dude, I guess. But.... is it comfortable?” He blinked, adjusting himself slightly, crossing his legs in an attempt to make a more appealing headrest. 

Pox just smiled, a smile so natural and full of light he couldn’t help but... look. She nodded, the excitement of the hacking attempt and the ensuing lighthearted playing fading as the events of the day well and truly hit her. “Yeah.” 

“Ok.” Zenith gestured, watching. Pox threw herself down, one leg folded up in the pillows and the other hung over the corner of the headrest. To Zenith, it looked uncomfortable. Then again, he wasn’t half as dexterous as Pox was. She often spent her naps in Xanadu on the floor of the backseat or with half her body basically dangling out of the crows nest. He, on the other hand, tended to sleep more like a mummy.

“You were saying?” Pox said, her eyes closed.

“Uuuuh,” Zenith collected his thoughts, blinking as he looked to the side. A gesture he didn’t have to do to focus on his AR feed, but one he often did anyways. He frequently did things he didn’t really have to because people didn’t really believe him when he said he was hacking, or texting, or watching vids or reading the news. Something about a blank stare made people skeptical. “I texted Daks comm before I jacked in. I don’t get how long it takes to buy Neo-Pringles.” 

“Well,” Pox said, stifling a yawn. “You know Tech and Dak. They’re probably yelling at the cashier about sucking their dick, or, like, I don’t know, siphoning gas for fun in the parking lot.” 

Zenith laughed, rubbing his arm. The blue light from his implant glowed in the dim, poorly lit room. “Yeah, good, saves us a trip to another fucking gas station.” 

Pox groaned. “Yeah.” 

They were quiet again. 

“Can you text Tech, actually? Now I am getting worried.” 

Zenith looked down at her. “Are you sen-” 

She shook her head, waving at him. She was looking suddenly awake, her brow furrowed. “No, I just... I get nervous. And beside, his arm is still fucked up, and... I should probably change his bandages before bed, actually, so don’t let me fall asleep.” 

He stared down at her for a moment, trying to think of something to say. All he could muster was one solemn “Ok.” So, he texted Tech instead. Not a moment later, he had a response.

Talking outside. Be in soon.

Zenith frowned, typing back an equally quick response.

Hack attempt, should leave.

He glanced back down at Pox. “They’re fine, yeah. Talking outside I guess.” 

Pox’s expression was a mimic of his own, confused and worried. “About what?” 

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Tech and Dak stuff,” He smiled, leaning over so she should see his face. She stared up at him. “Sucking dick and siphoning gas.” 

Her expression split, anxiety fading as she chuckled. “And we are talking about Zee and Pox stuff.” 

“Dildo monsters.” He grinned, and she laughed properly.

His feed pinged, and he sat up.

K

He nodded to himself. “I don’t thi-” 

“Do you-” 

They both fell quiet. She looked up at him, but he shook his head. “You go.” 

She chewed her lip, rolling onto her side. He couldn’t see her face anymore, but he knew what she was doing. Her shoulders were pulled up as she stared at her nails, compulsively cleaning them, scraping the dirt away and picking off chipping nail polish. “Do you ever, like... get scared about,” She paused. He searched the back of her head, and she sighed, shoulders pulling up even higher, her head falling even lower. 

“Caring about people?” She forced the words out, quick and ashamed. “I don’t know if that’s stupid or not, and I know it’s ok to feel how I feel, but I still... I don’t know, I get so scared sometimes, Zee, and I worry that I’m not.....” Her voice faded, small and tiny and withdrawn into her mass of silver hair and pockets.

“Normal?” 

She nodded, her chin tucking against her chest. “Yeah. Normal.”

He looked away, at his palms. Now, the silence wasn’t comforting, or familiar. It choked him, welling in the base of his throat. He felt the whirr in his arms as he flexed his fingers. They lacked a natural hesitation, the uneven pulling that caused the normal person's middle finger to curl a bit faster than their pointer, or made the tips of the thumbs twitch just a little. No. His hands were mechanical, precise.

Even though he couldn’t see into his arms, he could feel it. The pistons pulling at his wrists as his hands curled into tighter fists, the mechanical muscles which flexed around the compartment where his machine pistol was folded together. Violence was a part of him, built into the same hands which did all the mundane, beautiful things a human's hands were meant to. Hands that fumbled with greasy burger wrappers, brushed Techs hair, folded laundry, could just as naturally and easily become deadly. But not in the way Daks could, or even Poxs. 

Their hands had trained to hold guns and swords and whips and knives. His hands were weapons. It was a listed function, not a learned trait. How many nights had he spent worried, checking over his own machinery to ensure he wouldn’t accidentally shoot himself in the thigh, or worse, one of his friends in the heart? How could he ever ensure his own body couldn’t be turned against him the same way he turned others against themselves? 

“I do get scared.” 

Pox rolled over, looking up at him. He looked down at her, and slowly, his hand unclenched. He combed his fingers through her hair, tangling them in the mess that was her silver locks. 

“We’re not... man, I don’t think we ever can be normal. But honestly?” He said, his voice quiet. She nodded. “I don’t give a rat's ass about normal. I care about alive,” He said, his eyes affixed on the door, gaze softening. “Because when we’re all together, shit’s pretty good. And it’s- it’s scary to care. I didn’t ever care about anyone, or hardly myself, but...” 

He looked down at her. She smiled up at him, and he couldn’t help but return it. He couldn’t help but look at her, beautiful and happy. 

“I’d rather be scared to lose you than to have never... y’know, known you.” 

And they were smiling in the silence again. Pox’s grin gew so wide it almost seemed to hurt her cheeks, and she rolled over and started to poke him in the stomach. “Aww, you, you little man!! Youuu,” She cooed, and he laughed, batting her fingers away. “Did you get that line from a book or something?” 

“Sense and Sensibilities, actually.” 

“Really?!” 

“No, Pox, I’m not an old, old, old, oooold lady.” 

She gasped, sitting up and pulling him into a loose chokehold. “Zenith! Do not insult my tastes, young man.” 

He pulled at her arm, cackling with laughter.

Suddenly, the door was thrown open, slamming with a thud into the wall. Pox didn’t flinch, as was her nature, but Zenith did, his expression faltering as his foot slipped on the comforter in an attempt to sit up.

“Oh shit,” Dak bellowed, throwing his arms out. Tech was standing behind him, arms full of Neo-Pringles and off-brand fruit gummies. “Are we going full Monday Night Raw in here? Is this the Saturday Morning Slam?” He grinned, stepping inside and kicking his cowboy boots off.

“Yes!” Pox giggled, her voice high and giddy.

“Then get ready for Daaak Rambo.” 

Tech’s eyes went wide as he stumbled forward after his friend. “Dak, no-” 

“Dak!” Zenith yelped. But it was too late.


End file.
